Best Memorial To Wise Volunteer Is Dedication To Protect Resources

ANOTHER VIEW

January 22, 1995|by JOHN STROHMEYER

Gertie Fox fought to protect the quality of life in the Lehigh Valley, and many generations beyond ours will benefit from her achievements.

Yet, this petite, white-haired grandmother held no public office. She did not enjoy the clout of any political party. Nor did she have the wealth to use as influence. But she had wisdom, a capacity to spot negligence by public servants, and the tenacity to show up at public meetings, facts in hand, to bare abuses by the special interests who did have political power and influence.

Her most famous cause was the Monocacy Creek, although here she was not alone. She had the appreciative support of the Monocacy Creek Watershed Association, and she was its soldier in the trenches. Armed with scientific research and a belief in her mission, she waged a relentless battle to restore this unique in-city trout stream.

She zeroed in on the polluters, whether a cement company dumping in overheated waste, a car-washing business disposing its runoff, or highway builders and private developers whose bulldozers rearranging the landscape threatened to despoil the stream.

But Gertie looked beyond the Monocacy Creek. Encroachment on Bethlehem's Pocono water supply, the threat of I-78 to the Saucon Creek, the fate of the Delaware and Lehigh rivers and their fish populations all got Gertie's attention, and better yet, her muscle. And within her own neighborhood, she demanded and won increased safety for Jacksonville Road when one of her teen-age sons was killed while walking with friends.

Gertie's determination to wage her campaigns with knowledge inspired her to read, and maybe even understand, baffling legislation. She monitored the state's public register for developments, scoured legal notices in the newspapers for hearings and meetings and attended any that had a germ of significance.

A trained scientist, Gertie impressed with the facts. She educated more than a few legislators, municipal officials, and editors on matters that threatened the quality of life. To many, she was an irritant but she was impossible to ignore. She didn't win all of her battles, but her opponents always knew they had been in a fight.

But Gertie was more than an advocate. She was a visionary. She could look at the clouded Monocacy and see the clear, healthy waterway it is today. She could look at the rundown farm under the shadows of the Spur Route in Bethlehem and see historic Burnside Plantation. What is more, she could see the way to bring these miracles about, ferreting out the public bodies that could help and persuading private donors and volunteers to join the cause.

People saw Gertie as tireless, but in truth she was often in poor health. Her energies came not from physical strength but from toughness. And from humanity. She was a compassionate, funny, warm human being, honed by sorrow and illness to relate to the feelings and needs of others. Despite her fierce love for nature, she was heard to say, even in the heat of some environmental campaign, "People are more valuable than trees."

The people she valued most were children, because she felt an imperative to the future. Somewhere in her full youth she learned a duty to leave a noble legacy, to protect God's resources. To this end, she used her time judiciously, though at times this meant refreshing her soul with a run down the Camelback ski slope before the sun set.

The community has done well by Gertie, and why not? She did so much. Tributes flowed in until the day she died this month at age 78, emaciated by cancer. But there is one memorial and only one that would impress her. That is the continued commitment to the well-being of the Lehigh Valley environment.

This can best be done by educating emerging generations to pursue the truth, dig up the facts, and not be intimidated. Dedicated volunteerism need not belong to any one era. Gertie showed it could lead to a fulfilling life if you believe in the mission and refuse to quit.

P.S. I last saw Gertie when she came to Alaska a few years ago. During her tour of the Kenai peninsula, she came across a group of dispirited children confined to a secluded commune and she set to work. Within minutes, she had them involved in games that took no equipment and no particular skills. She soon had them all giggling and full of joy. It was just one of many, many times she reached out and connected.